


Sex and Sexuality

by triwizard_tardis



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Age Difference, Almost Rape, Consensual Attempt of Vaginal Sex, Derogatory Language, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Gay Nero, Graphic Retelling of Sexual Experience, In case you couldn't tell there's lots of sex, M/M, Pan Dante, Self-Harm, Semi-graphic violence, Severe self-hatred, Sexual Advances, Smut, Title will most likely change, Will add tags as they occur, gay af, more just melodramatic, self hatred, self-harm through masturbation, somewhat angsty, still has a plot though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triwizard_tardis/pseuds/triwizard_tardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dante's got a bit of a situation, and Nero swears he's just trying to do a favor.</p><p>Or the one where Nero doesn't get that he's a gay piece of shit, and Dante is totally in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: dubious consent

Demons of lust. Dante's greatest enemies. In every sense of the word. They were large, they were tricky, and they always got him hard. Always. Dante was expecting the trip back to Devil May Cry to be a long one. Dante was expecting Nero to be awake and in the office area shooting pool, listening to music, watching TV, the works. Dante was even expecting the kid to be super awkward as he strode through the door sporting a boner that his tight fit jeans did nothing to hide. Dante was not expecting what he got.

"You look, uh..." The kid stuttered miserably failing to avoid making eye contact with Dante's crotch.

"Hard," the older demon hunter supplied. Nero blushed like a cherry.

"I-I was going to say, uh, uncomfortable." Dante scoffed.

"Well thanks, Kid, I am."

Nero closed himself off in a second. Shoulders tensed, arms crossed up over his chest, Devil Bringer shoved in his damn mouth, and now he wasn't making eye contact with anything having to do with Dante. He suddenly looked like saying anything at all to the older demon hunter would cause him physical pain.

Dante made it to the edge of his desk before Nero spoke again. His voice started big as he threw his arms open, his face scrunched in regret for saying something he hadn't yet said. His words died rather quickly.

"I could, uh... I might me able to, um, help." As a matter of fact, the rookie's voice got so quiet that Dante nearly missed the word 'help'. Something of a squeak at the end of his sentence.

"What," the elder asked, really hoping for clarification.

"I said I, uh, I could, uh... Here," he cut off, gesturing vaguely for Dante to sit down and somewhat jumping into a stride towards Dante's desk. Dante, for his part, did as he was told, or rather motioned. His confusion became utter shock as Nero knelt down in front of him and started unzipping the elder's pants.

"Just tell me, if you want me to, uh, stop." Again, he mumbled his last words, quickly removing Dante's cock from its confines.

It was about then that Dante came to his senses. "Hey, wa- Kid, what're you doi–" but by then it was too late. In one fluid motion, Nero had swallowed his whole cock, and Dante couldn't breathe. Being a half demon did have its perks, one being that cockiness wasn't all in the attitude, so when Nero started to pull back only to suck forward again and force Dante's dick into the back of his throat... Well, if Dante had a clear thought, it would have something to do with being unfathomably impressed.

Nero pulled back again, hollowing his cheeks all the way to the top and coming off the tip with a "pop!" He started to lick the side of the twitching member, kissing along the shaft and even gently gnawing at it. Before teeth were involved, Dante began to regain his senses.

"Nero," he painted heavily, "w-w-wai!" And then the gnawing.

It started with a light nip at the very tip that nearly made Dante jump from his seat. Then he went down again; deep-throating Dante once more, though this time raking his canines and the edges of his molars along the sides as he went. When he got to the base, he tilted his head just slightly, and started softly chewing his way back up. He would only make it about half way before adjusting his head back and sucking Dante back into his throat. A couple rounds of that and Dante was clawing at Nero's head, slapping the arms of his desk chair, stomping his feet, desperately trying to communicate to Nero that he was about to cum down the other man's throat. Nero just kept sucking, until moments later when Dante came. And when hot laces of the bitter, white liquid hit his tonsils, he sucked that down too.

For minutes, Dante just slouched in his chair, nothing more than a wasted rag. Nero sat back on his legs, ignoring the stiffness that had grown in his own pants. When Dante finally came around, he fixed Nero with a confused, and maybe slightly suspicious, look.

"Are you..." The question went unasked, but Nero knew whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. So he threw up his guard with a haughty scoff.

"Whatever." And he pushed himself from his knees and strode over to the couch, flopping himself over the back, grabbing a magazine off the coffee table, and pouting. Dante just stared blankly for a second. "Well, what about your girlfriend?" 

Keeping his guard up tight, Nero sighed, like he was very much done with the budding conversation.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," he expressed flippantly, waving a dismissive hand and returning to his magazine.

The shock returned slowly to Dante's conscious thought, along with a surprising strand of disappointment.

"Di... did the little demon boy scout just cheat? Now, I'll be the first to admit I'm not one for committed relationships, but that's just low," he taunted, somehow slightly serious. He was mostly just ranting, however, and failing to realize the slow rising fury he was stirring in his victim as he pressed on, "I mean, if you're not interested that's one thing, but at least have the guts to call it off fir–"

"SHE LEFT ME OKAY!?" Nero yelled, leaping off the couch. A few stray shreds of paper fluttered to the floor, lucky enough to escape their mangled magazine cousins ensnared, in two halves, in his white-knuckled clutches. He heaved weighted breaths, magma red glare replacing his azure gaze.

But the longer he stared, the more his renegade tears cooled them, until a silent waterfall ran down each anger-flushed cheek.

"She left, because I'm some kind of freak," he sniffled, quietly. Dante just stared on, dumbstruck. "Oh what? Big man, big words? Now you've got nothing to say. Typical," he sneered, rubbing furiously at his cheeks with his sleeve. He released whatever magazine entrails still remained in his hands and threw himself back down on the couch.

After five hour-long minutes, Dante got up and strode over to the couch. He knelt down and leaned his arms on the back, resting his chin there. He let a hand fall and start stroking fingertips along the back of Nero's neck.

"For what it's worth," he began, lowly, "I think your pretty damn hot."

Nero hurled himself off of the couch, landing heavily on the floor. "Are you crazy!?"

Dante shot him a pointed look, "Seriously," he quizzed, probably only calm for the hazy aftermath of one of the best blowjobs, he wasn't afraid to admit, he'd ever received, "Why'd she leave you, Kid? Did she remember what that cursed arm of yours is capable of?"

"Do you know nothing about subject sensitivity," Nero sneered, moving his devil bringer out of Dante's line of sight.

"You just sucked me off without my permission; I have a right to this information." He tilted his head back expectantly. "Spill."

Nero gave one more defiant glare before turning in his seat in front of the couch and hugging his knees up to his chest.

"I don't. I don't know," he began apologetically, "No. That's a lie. I know exactly why and it's because of the sex..." He trailed off quietly, tacking on a mumbled, "or lack thereof."

Dante, behind Nero's back, scrunched up his face in confusion. After all, he could say from first hand experience that Nero was pretty great at sex. "She left you because she didn't want to have sex with you?" Nero whipped his head around wearing an expression that in and of itself called Dante an idiot. Though having said it out loud, Dante thought, it didn't actually sound all that unbelievable.

"No! No," he continued turning back around and sinking back into himself, "No she left me because I can't get it up."

"Can't," Dante parroted with blatant disbelief, his silver eyebrows shooting to his shaggy silver hairline. "You really are dense aren't you, Kid."

"I just did you a fucking favor," Nero shot accusatorily, spinning around to face his elder fully.

"Literally," Dante mumbled, but Nero continued on as though uninterrupted.

"Teasing someone, and butting into their personal life is no way to repay them!"

"Maybe not," Dante conceded, "but you still should have asked me before putting my dick in your mouth, therefore I'm not really sure that counts as a favor. And if it's not a favor, I owe you nothing. In fact, if it's not a favor, then it's assault, which means if anybody should be repaying here, it's you." Nero glared again, sourly, and spun away from Dante again slowly. "Just call this a collection. Now, okay. I'll ignore this not so little tent in your pants right now for arguments sake. What do you mean you can't get it up?"

"Okay fine, I get it, I'm hard. I can get it up, and I did get it up. I just. I don't know, it was weird, all right? Like I said, I'm a freak."

"Alright, you lost me. She wanted to have sex with you, but you did get it up for her, and now your a freak and she left you?"

Nero rolled his eyes, annoyed. He turned partially to once again glare at Dante, but he did just look genuinely concerned. So Nero sat back again making himself comfortable as he recalled the night they broke up. He began.


	2. Crappy Experiences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero tells Dante what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: graphic retelling of sexual experience, dubious consent of sexual advances

"Like I said it was weird, okay? I wanted too," he said, almost pleading and certainly upset. His words swam with emotion, and he hugged his knees close to his chest again. "I really, really did. I wanted to look at her, lying there, breasts hanging, apart and ample and beautiful. I wanted to touch her, and feel her touch me, but all I could feel was embarrassed. Not quite like she needed to put her clothes back on; I mean, she's a grown woman, she can handle herself, it's her choice, but... Like maybe I shouldn't touch her. I felt dirty. And at first I thought that, this is sex. It's sin out of wedlock, I'm supposed to feel dirty, right? But that just felt wrong." He took a moment's pause, just contemplating, before he continued. That emotion, once raw in his throat, gone, replaced by a sort of guilt ridden awe. "There she was. Legs spread wide. Her v-vagina was... She was so wet. So slick, and wanton, and beautiful. She seemed almost holy.

"She wanted so much. She wanted kids one day. She wanted the pleasures of making them. And she wanted it all with me. She wanted to touch me... But I couldn't let her. She wanted to feel me, and touch me, and excite me, and I wanted to be excited. I wanted her to touch me, and I wanted to touch her. I wanted to feel the arousal written so plainly across her face. I wanted to hold her, and touch her, and be the one to show her bliss. And I tried. I took me cock in hand and stroked."

Dante, for his part was being most attentive and respectful. Letting Nero come to his words on his own time, and not judging, or at least making no indication of judging, whatever those words happened to be. But Nero was hardly paying attention to that. Regaling his misadventure, he was caught in a sort of trance. Almost unsure if he was still speaking out loud.

"And I leaned over her, cock in hand, and told her how beautiful she was. I told her I wanted to touch her and hold her and make l-love to her, softly." His voice cracked again, breaking him of his trance. But Dante didn't say anything. He waited, patiently, listening attentively to words that had yet to be spoken. So Nero cleared his throat and continued, "And every time I spoke, she responded. She'd say things like, 'Yes. Please, Nero. I want you. Touch me please!' And that voice. That beautiful soprano voice, has never in my life sounded so... annoying!" He rolled his head back and closed his eyes, hoping to portray to Dante just what he did in that moment. "If it had just been a bit lower... I wanted to feel her voice. I wanted to feel it rumble against my skin. I closed my eyes and tried to picture it. I tried to imagine her voice lower, to feel her speak in lower tones that vibrated against my neck and down my spine. She touched me. Ran her hand over my chest with those frail, porcelain fingers. I imaged what they might feel like bigger. Thicker, and rougher, and more like my own. Or at least my human ones. I pictured big hands. Still long, and gentle, given what I had as stimulus, but stronger. I pictured stronger arms than Kryie's as she wrapped hers around my back. Hands splaying over my shoulder blades. I rubbed myself, quickly, imaging stronger arms and hands, a deeper voice that rumbled. I felt myself getting harder, rock hard, really fast.

"Then she hugged me close. She pulled her chest to mine, and I felt her soft boobs. Pressed against my chest, and I felt almost confused. My eyes shot open, and I looked over at her. She was so close, her head was resting on my shoulder. I saw her shoulder length auburn hair, hanging loosely, flowing in a soft cascade toward the bed. My devil bringer was still ramrod straight, knuckles pressed in the mattress, supporting us. My human hand was still stroking my erection furiously. I could feel Kyrie leaning back into the bed. I could feel her grip on my left side loosening. She snaked her hand down my back and around to my dick. She was trying to take it from me. To guide it inside her.

"I panicked. I pushed off from the mattress quickly, sitting straight on my knees and dropping Kyrie in the process. I looked at her, hot and in the moment, eyes clouded with a sort of lust, but slowly clearing. I tried to talk to her, to explain to her that I don't know what happened. One minute I was high. Higher than high on the thought of fucking her senseless, then it was like I r-remembered she was a girl and I couldn't do it. But I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't say anything. It sounded stupid anyway. Like, how do you start having sex with a girl, then close your eyes and forget she's a girl?" Nero wiped deftly at his eye. He'd lapsed back into that trance stated at some point, and the question, not really meant to be rhetorical, brought him back to his senses. Dante didn't answer anyway, so Nero just let his head roll forward, feeling stupid.

"Anyway, the worst part of all of it was, she understood. I didn't need to say anything. She just nodded her head slowly, a sympathetic smile on her face, and told me it was okay. She wasn't even mad! She just smiled at me. She said she was sad, and I could see that much in her eyes, but she said she understood. Then she kissed me, got dressed, and left."

Dante let out a low whistle. "Some girl," he commented, impressed. Nero smiled, a small sad smile.

"She was the best thing that could have happened to me, and I fucked it up. I told you I was some kind of freak."

Dante snorted. "No, Kid, you're not a freak. Just gay as fuck."

Nero spun around again, a fire in his eyes. Not the same magma fury that started this whole conversation, but an anger no less.

"I love Kyrie," he swore. Dante nodded.

"You can love some one and not be sexually attracted to them," he explained, pushing up from his slouch against the back of the couch. He got up and walked around so he was properly staring down at the younger demon hunter. "You are of age, aren't you, Kid?"

"I'm twenty one, if that's what your asking," Nero responded, looking up at Dante in confusion.

"Get up, and make yourself comfortable on the couch," he instructed. Nero wanted to ask what was going on, but part of him already knew, and part of him felt like he shouldn't question it, like Dante hadn't when he sucked him off earlier. So he just obeyed. He stood up and then sprawled himself across the couch. Dante shrugged off his trench coat and straddled Nero's narrow hips. He leaned in to whisper in Nero's ear.

"Just tell me, if you want me to, uh, stop," he mimicked but with much more seductive confidence. He kissed below Nero's ear, and the younger hunter's breath caught in his throat. He smirked a bit and continued to trail kisses down Nero's jaw and neck. He found the younger man's pulse point, and sucked at it, eliciting a shuddered breath. He hummed and Nero hummed back lewdly. He moved his head toward the back of Nero's neck and spoke lowly.

"Is this what you meant by a rumbling voice?" Dante chuckled softly when Nero whimpered in reply. Dante's forearms had been framing Nero's head to steady the elder, wrists bent, hands resting lazily in Nero's soft white hair. He moved one to cuff Nero's neck as he kissed the spot he'd spoken over. Then he trailed the hand down, down over the younger hunter's red hoodie, catching and pulling down the zipper only to frown at the tank top beneath it. No matter. While it would be fun to watch the younger writhe under teasing fingers playing of hardened nipples, that wasn't what Dante was after. He let his hand ghost back down Nero's torso, watching the younger squirm anyway. 

"Are my hands big enough," he teased, reaching for his prize. He grabbed Nero's denim clad crotch and pawned the strained erection there.

"S-s-stop," Nero stammered out, breathless and lustful. Dante removed his hand and sat up slowly, admiring his work with a haughty smirk. The kid was a wreck. His lips were parted wantonly, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing was heavy and struggled. His eyes were dark and stormy with lust, but his furrowed brow made him look utterly distraught. Like he was fighting so hard to deny what he liked, what he wanted, and was beginning to realize the battle was futile.

"Shit," was the only word that seemed to be able to escape the younger man's lips.


	3. A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante starts an important conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: mild and averted beginnings of a potential panic attack
> 
> Short chapter

Dante wasn't there the night Nero attempted to fuck Kyrie, but he thought one thing was for damn sure: whatever holy glow she held in the kid's eyes, it was nothing compared to the righteous struggle written out on Nero's face at that moment. Right then and there, with sin, and desire, and lust framing Nero's body even as he fought with himself to deny his sexuality... Dante leaned down again to kiss Nero's jaw.

"You're the one who's beautiful."

Nero let out a strangled, humorless laugh.

"Hey," Dante cooed in his ear, "don't panic. You're okay, this is perfectly normal."

"Normal," Nero croaked disbelievingly, "Nothing about this is normal!"

"How so," Dante asked patiently, placing more kisses on Nero's face and neck.

"I'm a guy! And you're, you're guy too! And, I can't feel this way about you!"

Dante chuckled softly. "Why not?"

"Because! Because, you're! And I'm," Nero stammered.

"Eloquent," Dante complimented insincerely. "Look, ki-Nero," he began, correcting himself, no longer feeling right to use the nickname having nearly fucked the other's brains out moments ago, "You're already part demon, so if you're worried about not doing right by the big man upstairs, I hate to break it to ya, but you're already kinda screwed." Nero glared at the older man peppering kisses on his neck. Not that Dante could see it from his angle. "If you think I'm too old for you, well you might be right. But you are twenty-one which means that decision is yours to make. If you think I'm going to hurt you," Dante pulled away from kissing Nero's neck to look him dead in the eyes; his face fell serious, "I will never do anything you don't want me to. I promise." His gaze flicked to Nero's lips and he licked his own. Then he pushed up off the couch entirely and launched himself up the stairs.

He could hear Nero yelling after him. "What the hell, Old Man!?" But he just jogged into the bathroom to take the coldest shower he'd taken since he was Nero's age.


	4. Say It Ain't So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This couldn't be right. And Nero was going to do everything in his power to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so this took an angsty dip real quick. And by the looks of it, we're still heading downhill. But something tells me that this'll all be cured rather easily.
> 
> I apologize for another short chapter but I'm in the midst of writing the next one so that should be up in the next few hours/days.
> 
> Tw for this chap: short and slight depressive episode. Nothing really bad happens.

Nero sat dumbstruck on the couch. Too old... Yeah that could work. If it weren't for the fact that, yes, that was exactly what Nero meant by a rumbling voice. If it weren't for the fact that, despite every point of logic he'd ever learned, every bone in his body was screaming at him to follow Dante's lead. To push himself, and his aching muscles, and his raging hard-on – that he would never admit existed, off of the worn old leather couch. To propel himself up the stairs after the 'too-old' man and right into that shower.

The shower, with steaming water clouding the air. The sweat rolling off Dante's neck and mingling with the scathing stream slipping down the older hunter's back.   
Dante.   
In the shower.

Not only would he be shirtless, but shoeless and pantless, devoid of socks and... underwear. Even his signature gloves would be removed, leaving every inch of his skin exposed. And scalding.

Nero leaned his head back in defeat as he tried to control his breathing. Why? Why couldn't he have this the way he wanted it? Why couldn't that be Kyrie in the shower? Why wouldn't his chest heave to think of her: soft skin of supple breasts pressed against the heated tiles, steaming and sweating and panting so sweetly. His body began to relax, and he cursed himself for it.

He could imagine her, clear as day, standing and moaning his name under the spray. He could see the cute little pout she would pull, rising steam clouds gathering in puffs around her. He could almost feel the condensation in his skin... but it was like he was standing in the hallway. The door open, the warmth floating in his direction and settling wet on his skin just so it could cool around him. Watching her, in his mind's eye, even as she gasped in the imaginary heat, sent a cold chill down his spine. Why? He pouted for his own, pulling his knees close to his chest. Something inside him felt broken. As he moved, his pants constricted around his half hard cock – hard courtesy of Dante, and half courtesy of a completely unaware Kyrie. It pressed guilt into his thigh. A guilt that spidered up his leg, fragmented in his gut, and eventually slithered around his heart threatening to crack it. He choked back a sob. He would not cry. He was a demon hunter for fuck's sake, not some goddamn whining teenager. He swore he wouldn't cry, even as the burning pressure, radiating from the back of his eye balls, built and stung and swelled up. Even as the first hot, heavy tears dripped down his cheeks.

Nero sat on the cracked leather couch for what felt like an eternity. It couldn't have been more than a fifteen minutes, given that when he finally moved the shower was still running, but each second seemed to sap the life from his eyes. When the first tears boiled over, Nero had sworn, swiping angrily at his face with his devil bringer, hoping maybe to poke out the offending muscles, but as the moments ticked on, it stopped mattering. At first he stared at his lap; whatever Dante had stirred up earlier had finally started to subside. Then at his bringer. Its glow was dim, Dante being so many paces away and completely devoid of hostile intent as he was. But it was still glowing. That had to be a testament to the older hunter's strength. Demon or no, Nero's arm only really lit up when an enemy, meaning anyone wishing harm, was within the vicinity. Sexually arousing bastard though he may be, Dante was no enemy. That would mean then that in terms of raw demonic power, even asleep, Dante was always seething. There was always an energy, so sinful and so power, buzzing just beneath the skin.

Maybe that was it. Maybe it had nothing to do with Nero, but his weaker demon form, tugging. It sought out power, as it never failed to remind him. Even when he wasn't in possession of Yamato, the demon within him gnawed and clawed endlessly at that back of his brain, desperate with bloodlust, pushing him to prove he could dominate any creature. Oh yeah, demons were a proud bunch. That aside, maybe that was it. Maybe all this frustration, this lack of focus, this draw to Dante was some convoluted con for power, cooked up by a pent up demonic voice. It would explain his lack of interest in Kyrie. After all, Kyrie was a tender, gentle, fragile human. Dante was half of the most powerful demon in the history of two separate realms. If Nero's demon could conquer, or even just draw the attention to submit to a power like that, it would probably hold enough power in its own right to satiate even its gluttonous soul.

If he could find another way to culminate that power, even if it took him years, then he could return to Kyrie, cured of this ridiculous affliction, and start a life with her. It was around then that Nero noticed Red Queen, perched where she had been since the morning of the previous day, cleaned to a sparkle. He left the shop without a second thought, just as the shower water stopped freezing Dante above him.


	5. Disgust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Gay" is Nero's trigger word. Almost literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Nero uses a slur. Also violence. Not as graphic as I thought it was last night, though.
> 
> Oh and Hooray! I suck at making chapters quickly, so you get a long one! A nice, long chapter! Yay!!

Demons of lust, right? That's what the call had said earlier. Dante had come in stiff as a rock, and sweating just the right way.

Nero shook his head furiously. If he remembered anything from Order studies, they hunted in packs, often seeking prey, not to eat but to fuck dry and leave for dead heaping bodies, hearts stopped from insurmountable orgasms. Gay, straight, bi, whatever. That had to be one awesome way to go. He shook his head again, this time banging it was the blunt edge of Red Queen for good measure. He knew he'd been spending a lot of time with Dante, but not that much. He had to stay focused.

Demons of lust hunted in packs. Usually demons that hunt in packs aren't hunting for themselves. Demons, as a species, were too greedy to share their prey willingly, which made pack demons the grunt workers. Given their name and their signature of euphoria high victims, Nero figured lust demons probably gained some sort of energy from literally fucking people to death. And grunt workers always collected for a master.

If Lady was a reliable source of information, which Nero had no reason to doubt she was, Dante had a track record of leaving jobs open ended. Either he'd get bored, he'd find some sentimental moral twist that would send him walking in the other direction, suddenly the pacifist, or he'd destroy too much property and the state department would literally shoo him from the premises, demon infestation be damned (if only). Nero was counting on this.

Judging by the way he'd sauntered into the office earlier, the younger hunter was hoping against hope that his hard-on had become too much of a distraction for Dante, leaving the older hunter calling it quits. He didn't particularly care how many, but he would scrounge around for as many leftover skulls to bash as he could until he dragged the last remaining small fry demon to its master. Lusts generally served succubi. Maybe she could light Nero's nerves, and if not, maybe she could give him some answers as he ripped open her chest cavity.

Unfortunately, Nero's hopes were too high. Dante had not, in fact, finished the job, but he'd quite literally killed all but one of them. Not to mention, it was much bigger than Nero had imagined.

For a lust, the thing was nothing short of repelling. It stood twice the size of the average linebacker. Stood wasn't the right word. Instead it sort of hovered, or floated, just inches off the ground, almost as though it's weight was dragging it to the ground. As far as a fight went though, it did not disappoint. Nero only got to hack away at the thing once as its speed was far from hindered by its size. It attacked him with a swipe across the face too, but ultimately Nero got the better of it.

Once his devil bring got ahold of its hideous head, the fight was over. Nero had his fun, he tossed it into the air, then batted it across the lot in which he found it with the back of Red Queen, before he grabbed it again and snapped its neck. When it swiped him in the face, it laughed, so Nero ascertained its capability of speech. He squeezed the information as to its boss' whereabouts from the giant bottom feeder before ending its life with a smile.

As Nero sauntered off to the parking garage the lust had informed him about, he contemplated the demon's categorization. As it turned out, 'Lust' was an undeniable appropriate title for the beast. When aroused, no pun intended, the demon secreted a pheromone that left Nero as hard as a rock, but given his mixture of endorphins and adrenaline, he couldn't bring himself to care. After about ten minutes, he found the garage, and the...succubus? 

There they stood, or more accurately leaned. Skin like dark chocolate with hard, sculpted edges to match; muscles toned but lithe; milky white tattoos running up and down its naked torso. The glowing, nondescript patterns paired with the dazzling teeth that made up its grin. Its neck looked strong, and its tanned lips were so supple. A thin pink snake's tongue slithered between those perfect teeth, drawing a line from one canine to the other, licking them. Nero noted that the canines were just slightly longer that the others, and stingingly sharp. They created sort of fangs, and he shivered to think of what they might feel like sunken into his shoulder.  
His eyes drooped slightly, lips parted and slightly askew, as he tilted his head appraisingly. His breath seeped out thick and heavy.

It had little cream horns jutting out of a grassland if black curls, and enrapturing amethyst eyes. Nero couldn't look away.

"Well, hello, big man," it spoke with a deep voice, as rich as it's chocolate skin. Nero only gaped, mesmerized by the being. He knew these things were alluring by nature, but this was just captivating, "What brings you to my," it tapped its stubbly chin in mock-thought, "office." It decided with a pleasantly teasing smirk.

Nero's tongue felt swollen and heavy in his mouth. His jaw ached for words, but they jammed in his throat. He swallowed to alleviate the sensation, and took a deep breath to try and focus his senses. His devil bringer was so dim. Everything felt fuzzy and high, but calm, too.  
The demon slipped off the wall in a seamless saunter. Its fingers steepled, it spoke, "you look a little preoccupied. Like something's eating away at you." It took another slinking step. As its bare foot hit the rough concrete, it began to fade. Becoming a purple smoke that rose and coiled and twisted up the demon's body with an imperceptible breeze, until the smoke was all that remained. It danced around the room, mingling with the air, like a thousand candles had been quietly extinguished at once.

Slowly, Nero began to come to his senses.

"What the hell?" It was only a whisper that got swept up in the smoke. Then that voice, dragging though the finest honey, shook down his spine.

"Maybe I can get you mind off of things."

A thin sort of pressure, if it could even be called that, slide over the devil bringer. It felt like steam, dancing across his fingertips, and Nero reveled in the forgotten sensation. Though the blissful haze, a dumb question rolled off his tongue.

"Aren't you supposed to be a girl?" He felt a low rumble of laughter as the smoke started to dissipate, forming a solid figure against his back.

"Baby, I'm whatever you want me to be," it hummed. The buzz felt like electricity. Nero squirmed, but his brow furrow in a hazy confusion.

"That's not right."

He could almost hear the demon smirk against his ear.

"Maybe not in ya head, but down here, I'm what you desire, I'm what you need..." Its molasses words evaporated, filling the room with a buzz as the smoke danced back into the air. The last thing to fade was a finger, caressing Nero's lower abdomen.

But, wait. The smoke got thicker, but somehow Nero's thoughts got clearer. That didn't add up. Dante was an exception, an affliction, not the damn rule! He was an incredible powerful demon, and while Nero agreed that a succubus, or incubus, was no small fry demon, it's power level was only significant for the fact that it was a humanoid demon. Nero was supposed to crave power! This demon should have been nothing more than lunch!

Nero's breath started heaving, teeth clenched, hissing his descent.

"No! I don't –" He put aside the objection with a deep, centering breath. He'd gotten too distracted already. "You're some kind of incubus, right? I thought lusts only served succubi." That rumbling laugh again.

"I told you, I'm whatever you want." The smoke zapped together, and the demon faced him once more. "You see: incubi, succubi, we're all the same really. And I mean the literally."

The demon mimed placing its broad hands on a counter, then pushed itself up, pulling its legs into its lap, and floating comfortably on thin air. It was the first time Nero noticed its wings. Big leathery things that pooled loosely at the ends and fell softly from the invisible counter's edge. Their creamy color matched the horns adorning its crown.

"We are the ultimate demons of lust," the incubus spoke proudly. "We exist in our own mist-like androgyny until something comes along for us to...seduce," it purred, "Because of this, we take one whatever form will be most arousing to our," it once again seemed to taste its words before concluding, "audience."

"Then why are you a black guy," Nero asked blatantly, angry for his deteriorating filter and still awakening from the effects of the incubus.

"Ah, yes. You have a lover," the demon commented coyly, hopping lightly from its invisible seat and beginning to pace again.

"Who? Kyrie and I are –"

"Not the girl," it interrupted, dragging its syrupy words and effectively ending Nero's desperate, vicious protests. "The demon." Its smirk turned almost venomous.

"Hey!" Nero shouted, dangerously, " I do not like –"

"Well, no matter. I don't mimic, I read," it explained, once again cutting off Nero's blatant protesting. "To spell it out for you," it continued, shifting around Nero, walking its nimble fingers across his shoulders, "if I take a 'human' form, these are my colors. My 'skin', my 'hair', my eyes. I don't change that for anybody."

Nero made a move to interject, but the demon put a finger over his mouth and went on. Nero bit his tongue to keep from biting off the lingering digit.

"As for the guys part; You, my dear, are gay."

At that, Nero snapped. Growling, he threw his arm over his shoulder, simultaneously revving Red Queen and ripping her from her sheath.

"Shut. UP!" Nero threatened, swinging Red Queen around wildly at full force. It cut deep into the incubus's hand, but the dying nerves still managed to cling onto the impressive motor sword, holding it inches from its face.

"Such a big sword," it admitted haughtily, "But for what? You have nothing to compensate for judging by the tent in your pants." It slipped on an easy smirk. Full lips parted just enough to reveal those pearly fangs. Bloodthirsty or not, Nero still shook his head to clear it of the image of those fangs.

"Why," he roared, lunging and revving Red Queen. He ripped the sword through the rest of the hand. The incubus had mere seconds to disperse into smoke before the blade came crashing into its head. The fingers twitched on the ground in its wake.

"Why what," the demon's voice spat sourly, the sound bouncing around the walls, it's source untraceable.

"I'll kill you!" Nero swore, roaring more and swiping blindly at the smoke. As he struck, the smoke seeped into and around Nero's throat. Before he had time to process, it solidified.

"Really," the incubus raged, its uninjured hand lodged through Nero's throat. Its once buttery voice took on a gravelly tone as it taunted, "not only are you too arrogant to answer my question, but I bet you're also too pompous to admit to your own!"

Nero struggled for breath, clawing at his throat to pry away hands that weren't wrapping it. The hand lodged within evaporated, and Nero gasped. As his breath returned, a similar attack gripped a lung, followed by a kidney and his heart.

"You're pathetic," the demon accused, "So consumed with the idea that I'm male because you're gay that you can't muster the focus to land two blows. I gave you my hand," it sneered, "but you'll have to work for anything else." It paused its attack to marvel at Nero, "Look at you. You can hardly stand."

That was true. Heart palpating in an effort to rediscover its rhythm, kidney cramping, lung crumpled like a paper bag. Nero tilted his weight onto his sword, his whole body burning with the effort to stand.

But Nero was a skilled hunter. Even through his rage and confusion, ripping through his deep seeded denial, he found his technique. After all, the demon was right. And he couldn't let that happen again.

Using his hunched position, Nero withdrew Blue Rose from her holster on his leg. He held his breath to gain leverage and ignore the pain. Then he spun out and emptied two thirds of the revolver's chamber into the incubus's gut.

He heard the demon seize, and used the sound as a sort of positive reinforcement for having hit his target. He hauled himself to his feet with the help of Red Queen's hilt, and stared down as his enemy doubled over.

"Now who's pathetic," Nero scoffed, smirk tugging at his the corner of his mouth. The demon ground its teeth but still proved its own sharp smirk.

"Still you," it bit out, "because I need only utter two words to snap you in half." Nero glared, but tried to keep up his resolve, then the demon spoke again, "You're gay." His lips twitched into a frown and in one shot, Nero placed his final two bullets in its head.

He slumped against the concrete wall once he exited the parking garage. After catching his breath, Nero began to slam his head against said wall. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Like it or not, the demon was right! Twice! Nero was new meat: baited, hooked, and dragged through the mud. He was a pathetically easy target too caught up in his own head to think straight! Nero laughed bitterly at the phrase. To add insult to injury he was definitely gay! Nothing straight about him! Not with that overwhelming evidence. Not when he closed his eyes to collect his thoughts, only to have those thoughts invaded by white fangs and tan skin. To listen to a voice that didn't belong there. Rough around the edges, but smooth to the ear at just the right angle, like polished steel. The image in his mind drained of melanin as the demon's cocky smirk morphed into Dante's.

Nero whimpered, then growled and slammed his head back once more. His stomach flipped and he cursed softly to himself. Just to rub more salt into the wound, that meant the demon was right about three things! Nero was pitiful. Pitiful, disgusting, and queer. He was a disgrace, and a crime like his deserved only one punishment.

\-----

The door to the office nearly flew off its hinges. Nero, clothes tattered, breath ragged, leaned in the doorway.

"Fuck me." The words we're barely a whisper. Dante's lips quirked.

"Really? What changed your mind, Kid," he taunted.

Nero stormed across the office floor and grabbed the older demon hunter with his devil bringer, pulling his face mere inches away from his own.

"Shut up and do it. I'm tired of waiting," he growled. So Dante leaned in to steal a kiss. Nero dodged. "No kissing, just fucking." And he dragged Dante up to his room.


	6. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero's grasping at straws here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to warn you about accept maybe attempted prostitution? If that's a thing? No matter. I know it's been a while, but usually when I've gone this long without posting I've given up on a story, so be grateful. A new chapter. Unfortunately, though I vaguely have an idea of where I want this next chapter to go, I don't know how I'm going to end this story. Which means you guys may have to wade through some shit writing until I figure that out. Good luck.

The door slammed shut, and Nero spun into the room. Dante chased him eagerly, attempting with very little success to cover the younger hunter in kisses.

"What did I saw about kissing," Nero warned dangerously as Dante backed him against the foot of his queen sized bed. For a moment, silence consumed the room as Dante lost himself in Nero's insipid scowl. When he flicked his gaze to Nero's passionate blue eyes, the spell was broken.

Dante wanted to swim in those deep azure hues, but they were as icy as the North Pole in January. He surrendered with a heavy sigh.

"Alright, Kid. Then how do you want to do this?"

"Just fuck me," Nero demanded bewildered. What was so hard to understand about that?

"Well I'm not going to plow into you without any preparation; this is your first time, right?"

Nero's scowl only deepened.

"What's that got to do with anything!?" he snapped. It was Dante's turn to look bewildered.

"Nero, that's gonna hurt. A lot," he explained flatly.

"Well, maybe I want it to!" Nero challenged, voice raising steadily in volume.

"Not that much, kid, I assure you."

"Whatever," Nero tossed out angrily, and for a moment, Dante thought he might have come to his senses. Then Nero pushed past the older hunter, heading for the door.

"If you're not man enough to fuck me, I'll find someone who is." Nero slammed the door behind him. Dante's eyes grew as he pursued the younger hunter. He crashed into the door before checking the lock he never used. It was half rusted by now and Dante nearly broke the knob in frustration. When he finally jiggled the door loose again, he threw it open and raced down the stairs.

"Wait! Kid, that's extremely dangerous!" he called in exasperation, rushing after Nero, trying to beat him to the front door, but he was far too late. Dante reached the bottom of the steps just in time to hear the screeching peel of motorcycle tires speeding away on pavement. Left without a ride, or a clue as to where Nero was headed, the older hunter was forced to wait.

To be honest, Nero didn't really know where he was going either. He'd thought about as far ahead as stealing the old man's bike and figuring it out from there. He rode recklessly, hairpin turns and last second lights, but he was almost going too fast for anyone to see. Besides, Devil May Cry wasn't exactly in the part of town where people put too much weight on traffic laws.

He slowed for an approaching read light that was way too busy to run safely, and took in his surroundings. He began to second guess the traffic infringements at what he saw. The streets were as clean as streets could get. Far cleaner than he'd come to expect from a seedy place like Capulet. The buildings were marble, and black granite, or entirely made of glass. The side walks were evenly laid brick. There were bright green trees lining the streets, and the air somehow smelled clean.

"Expensive," Nero muttered to himself, "Definitely not in Kansas anymore. Must've overshot my target."

Just as he was positioning the bike to turn around, the building just inside the adjacent street caught his eye. As the light turned green, he maneuvered into the parking lot across the street.

A neon sign hung above the chrome-finished entrance. The jagged design of the red and orange letters read The Pit, and the fire-lit cauldrons warmed Nero's skin. Who would've guessed that he'd find the kind of treatment he was looking for in an upscale hell hole?

It didn't take long, either. Nero walked through the door, flashing his ID at the bouncer, and made his way to the bar. He'd just been handed his drink when a stern looking man in a business suit approached him. His earthy brown eyes raked over Nero, appraisingly.

"How much," he commanded in a deep rumbling voice that almost reminded Nero of the incubus. The part demon smirked half-heartedly, a little put off, but if acting like a whore would get him plowed remorselessly, then a whore he would become. With as much gusto as he could muster, Nero cleared his throat.

"First one's on the house," he promised, trying his damnedest to emulate the allure of the incubus. It seemed to be working, because the man made no verbal objections when Nero playfully grabbed his tie, and dragged him toward what looked like a back exit.

As soon as the heavy metal door swung shut, the business man pinned Nero to the wall by the shoulder.

"What can I do for you, Mr. CEO," Nero taunted. The suit grunted.

"You can start by shutting up," he replied, shoving Nero's face against the brick backing, "Do you have any STIs," the man demanded fiercely, Nero could hear him struggling to undo his belt.

"That seems like a very after-thought question," the demon hunter laughed, again taunting his suitor.

"Just give me a damn answer!"

"Nope," Nero caved after some thoughts, "first night on the job, actually. You get the lucky virgin." Nero moaned out the last word in pain as he felt the man press harder into his skull.

"Don't lie to me, Kid," he growled, twisting his palm against Nero's cranium.

"I'm not!" Nero protested, "No joke! You're my first! Now, are we gonna do this or not? And don't call me 'Kid'!" Nero held back a shutter trying not to think of Dante. The suit let up his hold on Nero, and the demon hunter heard the tell-tale clicking of a fastened belt buckle.

"Not," the man replied, hastily. Nero spun around, watching with annoyance as the suit shoved his shirt back in his waistband. "What's your name?"

"Jack," he lied on his feet, growling out the word.

"Well, Jack. A word of advise before you get into this business: get out," the man placed sixty bucks in Nero's hand, "Go buy yourself some food or something, work on getting yourself out of this ditch the clean way." Then he left, and eventually so did Nero, brick crumbs and dust flaking from the gash left in the wall where his devil bringer connected with it.

Dante wouldn't hurt him, a stranger wouldn't hurt him! How was Nero supposed to associate the sick pleasure in his stomach with negativity if no one was willing to show him much sex like this could hurt!? Nero revved up Dante's bike furiously, and only stopped riding when he reached Devil May Cry.


	7. Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The straw that broke the camel's back, plus an extra push.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! One last steamy chapter! With an unnecessary amount of angst! I hope you like it.
> 
> Tws: the word 'rape'. And a very strange take on self harm.

Dante jumped when he heard the front door opening. His frayed nerves had sent him into a pacing frenzy the minute the bike took off. Nearly, four hours later, the idiot finally came home.

"Where the hell were you!?" Dante demanded as Nero slunk through the door.

"Why do you care?" the younger hunter asked dejectedly. 

"Wh-" Dante was practically stunned into silence. "You just went out to try and get yourself raped!"

Nero growled lowly.

"Yeah, well it didn't work," he snapped, "nothing happened, and I'm back home, safe and sound like your little pet!"

Relief flooded Dante before anything else, so Nero was able to stomp upstairs before the older hunter could stop him.

When Nero returned to his room, he undressed immediately. Thoughts of Dante, so close, so kind. How could someone be so gentle and so rough at the same time? Nero could still feel the older hunter's iron grip around his demonic wrist, still felt the searing heat of his open palm resting on the small of his back. So close. His lips looked so austere - not quite ripped from chapping, but sort of freshly dried. A skim of the tongue would have revived them.

He imagined the thick gloss that would have covered them, the bulging, throbbing crimson color he could have drawn to their surface if he'd just leaned a little closer.

Nero bucked his barren hips, and reached with tingling fingers for his naked cock. He grabbed for his sheets instead, than a pillow to throw over his face if he screamed. If no one was going to use him, he'd torture himself.

He let his thoughts flood with Dante, days of pent up fantasies, months of caged attraction. He placed the pillow on his lap and let himself grow into it. A billion pictures played through his head. Dante after a fight, Dante after a shower, Dante in the shower. Nero drooled, and bucked his hips into the pillow, whimpering in wanton lust. Still, he refrained from touching himself.

More images: sucking Dante off, a hand job for his elder, a hand job from him. Mundane and simple actions in his mind like high fives became hand holding, then wrist grabbing, then handcuffs. Nero wanted so badly to cum. In the pillow, on the bed, in his hand, he didn't care; his cock was throbbing. It was a new type of pain. A pain of discipline, one he would hone.

His devil bringer snuck below the pillow without his permission, and suddenly those handcuffs looked like a terrific idea. Not only did they seem to turn him on more, but if he couldn't reach his dick, he couldn't reach his peak. He sprang to his feet and began searching wildly for handcuffs, conscious mind addled by his lust. 

He found some pillow cases, a bungee cord, and a tie. It wasn't until he heard the jingle of a belt buckle that he realized everything he'd discovered could work for what he wanted to do. He decided the metal clasp of the leather belts would work best, and struggled to bind his hands as tightly as he could behind his back.

The leather bit into the skin of his human wrist. The rough, horny hide of his devil bringer rubbed and jabbed him uncomfortably as well. He reveled in the nuisances.

Standing then, in the middle of the room, Nero took a deep breath. He realized, once bound, he'd been rushing towards nowhere. His cock had flagged in his panic, so he was bound for no reason. He flopped face first on the bed and growled in frustration, heaving deep breaths to regain his composure. At least he couldn't touch himself now, not that it made much of a difference with an almost limp cock.

After a long moment, he heaved himself farther onto the bed. Then lightning struck his nerves as his dick rubbed against the crisp cotton sheets. Limp though he may have been, Nero was still hypersensitive coming off such an unfulfilled high. The bleached sheets felt uniquely rough against his skin, the way he imagined Dante's calloused hands might feel. He moaned involuntarily at the sensation, and curled his body against the bed, creating the most delicious friction.

Once again, Nero flooded his brain with images of Dante as his cock began to stiffen. He wriggled, and writhed imagining Dante's leather clad hand holding his arms in place, callouses of his other hand exposed and stroking his needy cock.

"Dante," he wheezed to the empty room. His hands curled to fists and released as he scrubbed himself into the bed. He felt a sharp prick around his tailbone and yelped.

In that moment he seemed to remember he had a demon arm. He crawled his hand across his ass, placing his middle finger at his hole. The clawed appendage prodded sharply at his entrance making it contract to forbid the intrusion. Nero smirked to himself; even his lust soaked body know this was wrong. He forced the digit in, and yelped again when the talon scraped against the wall. The red hide of his knuckle poked at his ass, and squirmed with the discomfort. The stretching didn't hurt the way he thought it would, the way he intended, so without hesitation he thrust in a second digit, basking in the sudden burn.

This was more like it. Nothing about this felt good. From his raw, bony knuckle, to the ripping sensations of his claws both forcing him open and scratching his skin both inside and out. Despite the sweet friction of the sheets, Nero's member began to wilt.

Nero grinned in wicked triumph. He drew his fingers out of his ass and then drove them back in. He cried out in pain, and continued with the punishing ministrations. He was almost crying when Dante opened his door.

Unbeknownst to Nero, the elder hunter stood in the doorway, frozen in shock for several minutes. When he found his voice, he roared.

"What the hell are you doing to yourself, kid!?"

Nero froze, biting back a whimper of pain. Dante crashed into the room, ripping Nero's hand from his ass, and breaking the belt buckle loose. He pulled Nero into a sitting position, at which the younger winced, and shoved the devil bringer in his face. 

Nero tried to be enraged, but the tears staining his face did nothing to aid that illusion.

"What is this," Dante demanded with a blinding rage of his own.

"Blood," Nero asserted, sounding a weaker than he felt. Dante's resolve began to crack. He hit Nero upside the head.

"That's not what I meant."

Nero bowed his head, forcing the idea through his mind that his leaky eyes from earlier were a testament to his physical pain, nothing else. Still, hot tears welled up in his eyes.

Dante sighed and knelt down in front of Nero.

"I get. Gay is gross. But gross doesn't lead to fucking oneself until their ass bleeds. You wanna tell me what's actually going on here?" 

Nero bit into his lip, and clenched his jaw when that didn't work. Those boiling tears rolled down his cheeks, and he snapped.

"I don't know!" Nero cried in frustration. Dante grabbed Nero to his chest fiercely, and they sank to the floor as Nero sobbed. He clenched Dante's coat with white knuckles and wept until he could speak.

"I can't... I-I cant," he mumbled, "this isn't okay," he proclaimed softly. Dante chuckled.

"You're right, it's not, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say we aren't talking about the same thing."

Nero leaned back to look Dante in the eye.

"I like you," he admitted, voice limping on a wounded emotion that Nero couldn't place. Dante stayed silent, so Nero continued, "And I-I want you." His teary eyes shifted to Dante's lips. "Sparda, do I want you," and his words soaked in longing. Dante's lips quirked, and Nero shot his gaze back to the older's eyes to avoid temptation.

"I can't," he whined helplessly, letting his face fall to his lap again, "this isn't just gross, it's wrong! It's unnatural, and not just the gay part but you! You have to be ten years older than I am, and for whatever reason, nothing makes me more excited than the thought of you." His eyes returned to Dante's.

"You close to me," he whispered, tilting his head up to reduce the number of centimeters between them. "You touching me." He grabbed deftly at Dante's hand and placed it on his hip. "Getting to touch you back." He slid his human hand up Dante's chest. His breathing was shallow and erratic. "I get hard at the thought of your lips." His eyes flitted to those lips in time to watch, mesmerized, as Dante's tongue darted across them.

"It's hideous." The words left Nero's mouth in a gasp coated in a very different kind of heat. He pulled away nonetheless.

"It's sick; I'm a perverted freak," he declared acidly now that he was no longer focused on Dante.

"Oh for the love of," Dante muttered to himself as Nero sulked, "would you just–" he cut himself off in annoyance, grabbing Nero's face and lunging forward.

"Mhmph!" Nero gasped as Dante's lips captured his own. He pressed urgently, but chastely, somehow remaining actively still while he waited for Nero to react. The world froze for an extended moment. Then, Arctic blue eyes, startled wide, began to flutter closed.

Dante moved his lips slowly, methodically, waiting mere fractions of seconds for Nero to catch up with the movements. They kissed like that, with a slow burning passion, for an eternal second. Nero's head spun, but he chased Dante's lips as they retreated.

"There, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" Dante crooned with a playful smirk. Nero's features twisted with turmoil.

"No," he admitted against his better judgement, "it really wasn't." And Nero surged forward to capture Dante's lips once more.


End file.
